Date: Thu, 31 Mar 2011 18:52:56 -0700
From: J H
Subject: Tech Support
Fuck. Second time I had rebooted the machine and still, the first
thing that came up was some piece of spam about finding hot women
nearby. I didn't really care about the content. I had wanted to get a
lot of work done while my wife and daughter were away, and I knew from
experience it would take a few hours to get it fixed.
Finally, I bit the bullet, and called the TechTeam. I had used them before,
and although not cheap, they had usually fixed the problem. They promised
to send someone out within the hour. Unable to do anything else, I had a
beer, and watched some TV until the guy came over.
About thirty minutes later, the doorbell rung. I went down, and let
the guy in. As I opened the door, I felt like I had seen the boy
somewhere before. He was young, maybe twenty or so with a thin,
swimmer's build, black hair, and a handsome face. "Hi," I said. "I'm
Mark."
"Greg," he said, "I'm from the TechTeam. You've got computer problems,
Sir?"
"Yeah," I said. He had called me Sir. Was I that old now that I was a
sir? I thought of my dad as a sir, not me. "Upstairs. Some sort of
virus or something." He walked in, and I couldn't take my eyes off his
ass. I tried to stop myself, thinking that he must have been the same
age as my son. Maybe even a friend of my son's. "You look familiar," I
managed to say. "You know my son?"
"No, I don't think I do, sir"
"You don't have to call me sir," I said. "It makes me feel like my
dad. Just call me Mark.
"Sorry, Mark. It's just seems like second nature to call you sir."
"You play soccer?" I asked. "Maybe that's why you seem familiar."
"Yeah, Mark. I played in high school. Still play in a club," he
said. "Your son plays soccer, sir?"
"He's in college now, but yeah, he played in high school." Greg
started up the stairs. "Maybe I just saw you at a game or something,"
I continued.
He turned and smiled. "Yeah, maybe at a game."
He reached the top of the stairs. "To the left," I said. "In the
office."
"Got it," he said as he went into the office and sat down in front of
the computer. He looked at the screen. Over his shoulder, I could see
it was now covered in advertisements for everything from Viagra to
retirement condos. "Yeah, I see what you mean, sir" he said. "It's
going to take a bit of time to fix."
"But you can do it, right?" I asked.
"Of course, Mark" He emphasized the "Mark" this time. I felt a little
bit less like a father and more like a peer.
"You want anything to drink?" I asked him.
"If you have some water, that would be awesome, Sir" he said. "I just
came from a soccer game, and I'm still thirsty."
"Sure thing," I said. I could tell he hadn't yet had a chance to
shower. Greg smelled like sweat, teenager, and fresh-cut grass. I
could feel my cock stirring, but I tried to ignore it.
"That your son, sir?" he asked, pointing at a picture on my desk.
"Yeah, it is. He's off at college now. And my wife is taking my
daughter on a college visit." I had a sudden need to let him know that
we were alone in the house.
"Cool. You must be proud of them, Mark" He was staring right at me,
like he knew something about me that I didn't even know.
"Yeah," I said, blushing slightly. "Let me get you some water." I went
downstairs. In the kitchen, I asked "Ice?"
"Yes, Sir," he called down to me. Each time he said sir, my cock
twitched. The way he said it suggested more than just simple
politeness. There was a tinge of honor and respect in him saying it,
that he would do anything I asked him to do. I tried to put that image
out of my head, and poured two glasses of water for us. I brought them
upstairs.
He was seated at the computer, staring intently at the screen. "And?"
I asked, letting him know I was back.
He looked up at me, smiling. "I think I know why I look familiar,
Sir," he said. "Look familiar?" he asked.
I put down the water, and looked at the large screen. Covering the
screen was a picture of Greg. I recognized it immediately. I had found
it, and a few others of him, online. In the picture, his back was to
the photographer and he was looking over his shoulder. He was wearing
only a white jock strap and a pair of soccer cleats with long red
socks. I couldn't count the number of times I had secretly jerked off
to the pictures, imagining doing things to this perfect young man.
I didn't say a word. Greg didn't say anything either. He just pressed
a key, and the next image came up. Another picture, this time his hand
grabbed a cheek, exposing his tight, furry hole. Another tap on the
keyboard, and another picture appeared on the screen. From behind
again, his legs spread, his hand holding down his cock and balls.
"Uh," I stammered, not sure what else to say.
"It's cool, Mark," he said. "I like knowing guys jerk off to me." He
paused, and went back to the earlier picture. "How many times have you
jerked off thinking about me?" he asked.
"It's not like that," I manage to say.
"You don't think I'm hot, Mark?" he asked.
"No, not that." My heart was pounding. I tried to catch my
breath. "Yeah, I've jerked off to you, Greg. Many times."
"Yeah, Mark?" he asked. "What did you imagine doing?"
"Kissing you. Undressing you. Rimming you. Fucking you. Hard."
"And now that I'm here? What do you imagine?"
Barely able to talk, I manage to whisper, "The same."
"Awesome," Greg said. "That's what I'm imagining too." He smiled at
me. "Now, you've seen me naked. It seems only fair that I see you
naked." Almost as an afterthought to the direct order, he added,
"Sir."
"What?" I asked, not sure what he was wanting.
"Shirt, Sir. Off," he said.
It was hard to tell who was in control here. He was giving me the
orders, but still calling me sir. And I was unbuttoning my shirt,
exposing my chest without question. I took it off, exposing my hairy
chest. Next to his perfection, I felt like a mere mortal.
"Fuck, man" he whispered. "Hot fucking hairy daddy chest. And muscular
as well."
"Thanks, Greg," I said. He pulled me closer to him, and buried his
face in my chest.
"Damn, I wish I were that hairy," he said. His smooth face felt good
against my chest. "Call me boy, please?" he asked, his voice muffled
by my chest. Even so, I could hear the need in his request.
"Of course, son," I said. Maybe because of the age difference, it felt
completely natural to be calling him son. I thought of all the times I
had jerked off to his picture; I had often imagined him as my boy,
helping him grow into a fine young man.
"Thank-you sir. But, Dad, everything," he continued, indicating my
pants.
I undid my belt, and let my jeans drop to the floor. Greg got out of
the chair, and kneeled down in front of me. His head was right on
level with my underwear. "Please Dad? Can I?"
We both knew what he wanted. "Go ahead, boy," I said. He pulled down
my underwear, letting my cock spring free. I wasn't yet fully erect,
but still hard enough to stick out stiffly.
"Damn, Dad. You've got a fat cock," he said, staring at my shaft. He
wrapped his hand around it, gently stroking it. "It's fucking huge,
Daddy."
I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him towards me. Greg knew
exactly what to do. He opened wide and took the head of my cock into
his mouth. I moaned in pleasure as his warm, wet mouth engulfed my
cock head. I hadn't felt like this in ages, and uncontrollably, my
cock started to leak pre-cum. Greg didn't seem to mind; he licked up
every drop right away, savoring it. Finally, I managed to
speak. "Damn, boy, that feels good."
Greg didn't respond, but continued to work his way down my cock. I was
in heaven, this hot young stud giving me some of the best head of my
life. I had been told my cock was big, but I don't think it had ever
been this long or this hard. Even so, Greg managed to get all of it
into his mouth and bury his nose into my pubes. "Fuck daddy, that's
big," he said, pulling off and catching his breath.
I pulled him off his knees. Standing, we were about the same height; I
could look right into his eyes. We started to kiss, letting each other
explore our mouths. I could taste my precum on his tongue. It gave me
a strange sense of ownership to know he had sucked my cock so eagerly,
so willingly. Finally, I broke off the kiss. "Your turn, son. Strip
down for your Dad."
"Yes, Sir," he said. He pulled off his shirt quickly, and kicked off
his shoes. "All the way, Dad? Or leave the jock strap on?"
"Damn, son. You're wearing a jock? Leave it on." I kicked off my own
shoes and pulled off my jeans. The thought of him in a jock strap,
just like in the pictures had me hard as a rock. I could hardly wait
to get back inside of Greg.
Greg pulled down his pants, revealing a thin white swimmer's jock. I
knew from the pictures that he was at least as well endowed as me, and
reality did not disappoint. His cock was straining against the
confines of the fabric, and seemingly, half of it was sticking up
above the jockstrap. "Fuck, boy, you're big."
"I owe it all to you, Dad," he said, smiling. As tempting as his cock
was, there was something else I wanted more.
"Turn around, boy, and bend over." I didn't need to repeat myself; he
bent over the desk, wagging his ass at me. I knelt down in front of it
and spread his cheeks apart. His hole was a little hairier than in the
pictures, but just as tight and sweet. I could smell the sweat and
musk accumulated from his soccer practice, and it drove me crazy. My
cock was dripping, and I couldn't restrain myself any longer.
Greg felt the same way. "Please daddy. I need it," he moaned, the
desire was barely masked in his voice. I didn't need any prompted and
dove in, licking up all the sweat, pushing up against his hole. It
didn't take me long to start pushing into his hole. At first he was
tight, but he quickly opened up for me. My cock was throbbing, knowing
it would soon be able to penetrate into this beautiful boy.
"Daddy," Greg moaned. "Fuck me. Fuck your son." From the way he had
been grinding his ass against my tongue, forcing it in deeper, I knew
he needed this just as much as I did. I opened a drawer on the desk
and pulled out a bottle of hand lotion. It wouldn't be ideal, but it
was what I had. Without taking my tongue out of his sweet hole, I
managed to squeeze some onto my hand and start rubbing it on my cock.
Once slick, I finally, reluctantly pulled my face away from his
ass. "You're sure your ready, boy?" I asked him. I poured a bit of the
cold lotion onto his hole, and slipped first one, then two fingers
into him. Greg was tight, but didn't resist my penetration.
"Yeah, Dad, I am," he said, pushing his ass back, onto my
fingers. "Just, uh, go slowly. It's been a while for me." I pulled my
fingers out, and poured a bit more of the lotion on his hole.
"Don't worry son. We've got all the time in the world." I slid my cock
between his cheeks, rubbing against his hole. It was hard not to shove
right into him, but I was patient. I put my cockhead right against his
hole. With a gentle push from me, and my boy pushing back
simultaneously, we were able to get my cockhead inside of Greg. Once
in, he was warm and tight, but welcoming. However, I could feel him
tense up, as he tried to get used to the invasion. I paused, and let
him get used to my cock.
But, after a few seconds, he gave up. "Wait a moment, daddy," Greg
begged. I pulled out, and poured a bit more lotion on his hole, gently
running my finger around it, opening him up. I knew not to rush
this. By taking my time, we would both be able to enjoy a long and
passionate fuck. After a few moments, he caught his breath. "Try
again," he said.
I pushed in again, feeling the wonderful bloom of warmth around my
cockhead as I entered him. This time, there was no tensing. "Ok, boy?"
I asked, as I pushed a bit deeper into him.
"Oh fuck yeah, Daddy," he said. "Go slow, but don't stop." I continued
to enter him slowly, guiding my cock with my hand. "Fuck, Daddy,
you're big," he said, but pointedly didn't tell me to stop. He pushed
against me, and I leaned into him, forcing us closer together. Bit by
bit, he took the entire length of my shaft, until finally his ass was
pressing against my balls.
"Damn, boy, you took it all," I whispered into his ear. "My boy's ass
feels so fucking good." My cock felt amazing buried in Greg's
hole. Even without any movement, I felt like I was on the edge of
cumming.
"Feels good for your boy as well," Greg answered. "Go ahead Sir. Fuck
your boy." I didn't push it too quickly, but started to slide in and
out of his ass. He would clench down as I went all the way in, trying
to keep me inside of him. I knew I was dripping pre-cum like crazy;
each stroke of the fuck was a little more slippery than the last. I
loved the feeling of marking my territory, of owning him.
I bent over him, nibbling on the back of his neck. He twisted around,
and just barely, our mouths met. As we tried to kiss, I could taste
the sweat on his skin from the workout, salty and masculine. In
between our frantic kisses, I managed to get out, "Fucking awesome
ass, boy."
"Daddy, make it yours. Make me your boy," Greg answered, pushing
against my every stroke. He was as hungry as I was needy. My cock was
turning into something we shared between us as the boundaries between
our bodies blurred. Both of us needed this connection to be as deep as
possible.
After a few minutes of fucking him, I took one last deep stroke, and
then pulled out. He turned around completely, staring at me. A single
plaintive question from Greg, the need was raw and dangerous: "Daddy?"
I needed to reassure him just as much. "Sofa," I said, indicating the
leather sofa in the study. I went over and sat down on it, my cock
sticking straight up. He had nearly a running start, jumping onto me
and sliding down my pole. "Ride your dad, son, ride him hard," I said,
before we started to kiss again.
Greg took me at my word, starting to bounce on my cock. The new
position was easier for us to kiss in, and we used it to the fullest
advantage. I let his tongue into my mouth; with my cock buried deep in
his hole, it seemed like the least I could do. Time seemed to slow
down, with my boy on top of me, my cock deep inside of him, I didn't
want this to end.
Occasionally, I had to slow Greg down. I had been on the edge for a
while, and I didn't want to shoot too soon. Greg only grudgingly
complied, speeding up as soon as he could. "Dad's gonna cum soon if
you keep that up, boy," I told him.
"That's the point, Sir," he said, sliding back down on my cock, and
squeezing his ass tightly. My balls were pulling in tight, and I knew
I was getting close. I pushed him down and held him in place, feeling
my cock deep in his hole. Although I knew it would be futile in the
end, I wanted to hold off as long as possible.
"Not so fast, son," I said. I pressed down on his shoulders, forcing
him a little further on my cock, but also keeping him from bouncing up
and down quite so arousingly. He leaned back, and stretched his arms
up. I took the opportunity to bury my face in his hairy, sweaty pits,
inhaling deeply.
My nostrils filled with the scent of a perfect man, young, sweaty, and
innocent. It over-powered my mind and all I could think about was
marking Greg as mine. I wanted to shoot my load in him and make me a
part of him permanently. "I'm gonna cum soon, son," I said, "You want
me to cum in you?"
"Don't you dare pull out, Sir. I don't want to waste a drop of your
daddy sperm," he answered. In the popper-like haze of his sweaty pits,
it was an electric statement. My balls pulled up tight, my cock
hardened and swelled, and I could feel my body priming the pump, ready
to shoot. Greg let a hand drop to his jockstrap, and began to stroke
his cock.
"You're gonna get every fucking drop, Greg," I said. I inhaled deeply
once more from his sweaty pit, letting the scent fill my mind once
again. I couldn't hold back any longer, and I didn't try. I thrusted
into him one last time and let my cock explode. "Fuck yeah, boy! Take
it!" I grunted, as the first spurt of cum shot through my dick, into
his warm hole.
"Oh fuck, Daddy. Give it to your boy," Greg moaned. He leaned into me,
starting to kiss me. I could barely control myself, shoving my cock
into his ass, feeling my balls drain themselves and all the while,
kissing him deeply. His ass clenched tight around my penis, milking
every drop it could. "Don't stop," he begged, still stroking his
cock. "Your boy is about to cum as well."
"Cum for your dad," I said. "Show me how much you like getting fucked,
boy." Greg was riding my cock hard, bouncing up and down. I was still
filling his ass with my cum, thick ropes of it shooting out of my cock
with every stroke of his body. I knew I had been building up a big
load, but this was an unexpectedly large one.
"Damn, Daddy, I'm cumming," he shouted, as his butt grabbed my
cock. He got the last drop of my load, right as he started to shoot
his own load. His first jet landed right between my pecs, a warm,
white rope of sperm all over my chest hair. Instinctively, I reached
down, wiped it up with my fingers, and licked it off. Sweet and salty,
I knew I'd never be able to get enough of his cum.
"Give me all of it," I said, already hungry for more of his jizz. He
obliged, first one, then two, then three more huge loads of sperm
landing on my chest and stomach. I licked up each wad of cum, savoring
the flavor. Just as much as I wanted to leave a part of myself in him,
I wanted to have some of Greg in my own body.
His body shook one last time, another jet of sperm landing on my
stomach. This time, he wiped it off me, and put his fingers in my
mouth. "Lick it up, Daddy," he said, as my tongue cleaned off his
fingers. He leaned in and kissed me, tasting the last bit of his
load. We didn't say anything for a bit, just caught our breath and
made out. My cock was still hard, keeping us joined together.
"Thanks, son," I said. "I needed that."
"Me too, Dad," he answered, and then returned to kissing me. Finally,
my cock softened enough that with a wet pop, it slid out of his hole.
"Shower?" I asked him.
"Please," he said.